𝐒 𝐏 𝐑 𝐈 𝐍 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 [max verstappen x oc]

fourteen

It was an odd situation, the two of them sitting on the staircase floor together. Both doing things the other would never expect of them.

Time passed and Lena's tears stopped. Her breathing returned to normal and she was suddenly aware that Max was still holding her.

She flinched and moved away from him. Max seemed confused but he tore his hands away with a concerned expression on his face.

"I'm sorry." Lena mumbled, wiping her face and sighing at the bits of mascara that clung to her fingertips. "I'm sorry, I don't know what that was."

Max shuffled a few feet back and leaned against the wall, his feet stretched out in front of him. "What happened?"

Lena didn't know what she was supposed to tell him. Oh, yeah, so back in Monaco I race illegal motorcycles, and I kind of pissed of this one guy before I left to come work here, who happens to work at RedBull and be in that room and have the ultimate power to destroy her life. 

She had a feeling that wouldn't blow over well. 

"You know Khai?" 

"Khai?" Lena looked up. So that was his name. He looked like a Khai. 

Max nodded, still watching her warily. 

She inhaled and looked away. 

"Not going to tell me, then?" Max shrugged. "Fine. You don't have to."

Lena swallowed. "I can't tell you." It was the truth. For as much as Lena felt the weight of her past on her chest, this was not the time nor the person to talk to about it. Max hated her, if she thought he would keep her secret she was insane.

He seemed to understand her for a moment, and in a peculiar way he seemed to feel what she was feeling, though Lena didn't know that. All she felt was discomfort as he eyed her curiously from the wall. 

"I understand."

Quiet again. Through their bickering, they were good at quiet. 

"Did that man hurt you? Because if he did, it would only take a word to get him removed from his position--we could make it anonymous--"

Lena cut him off. "No, Max. I don't--I don't want that. Just, drop it, okay?" She felt herself getting worked up again. "He didn't hurt me. It's a long and complicated story that you don't care about."

Max frowned, opening his mouth to speak but closing it after realizing there wasn't much he could say. 

Lena sniffled and wiped her face one more time, trying to look somewhat presentable as she stood from her position by the stairs. 

"Why did you come after me?" She couldn't help but ask. "We're not friends, you made that clear."

Max thought about it for a moment, furrowing his eyebrows before looking up at her. "I'm not really sure. I recognized the look in your eyes. I thought it was the right thing to do."

Lena didn't know what that meant, but she was too nauseous to attempt to. 

"Thank you, Max." She mumbled, causing him to look back up at her. "Seriously."

He nodded once before she was out of the stairwell door, hurrying along the hallway and trying to get back up to her desk as soon as possible.

________________________________

"Are you packed for Miami?" Emilia said, snapping Lena out of her daze. 

"Hm? Oh, yeah. All packed." By all packed, Lena meant she had thrown a pair of jeans, two RedBull shirts, and a clubbing outfit into her backpack. 

Despite the nausea and anxiety growing inside of her due to her run-in yesterady with the biker that she'd raced illegaly, Lena forced herself to be excited for Miami. She'd never been to the USA, much less a party town of the USA. Lena wanted to go clubbing and, after being reassured by Peter, she had already booked entry to a club down there named Pele. Leave it to America to name thigns the dumbest ways possible. 

Her phone chimed. 

Unknown Number: Block?

Unknown Contact
This is Max Verstappen. Checo will be contacting
you shortly. 

Lena furrowed her eyebrows. She couldn't tell if this was a good or a bad thing that he was texting her, nearly a day after he'd held her in his arms crying. Thankfully, he didn't even look at her this morning when they crossed paths. 

Max Verstappen

Lena
hi
Lena
why do you have my phone number

Max
Lilah gave it to me. She said we need to
have direct communication going forward.

Lena
ok 
Lena
cool

She stared at her phone for a few more seconds, mostly just confused and a little annoyed by his perfect grammar, before clicking it off and tossing it into her drawer. The more she thought about Max the more she remembered the stairwell, which made her think of Khai, which made her think of how she might lose her job. Lena was thinking too much and she desperately needed to drown it out with alcohol. 

"I heard a rumour." Emilia whispered with a glint in her eyes. She was still sitting on Lena's desk, having their lunchtime gossip session. 

This time, though, the last thing Lena wanted to hear was rumours. "What is it?"

Emilia looked to each side before turning back to Lena. "I heard that Max officially cut things off with his girlfriend."

She furrowed her brows. "I thought they already broke up?"

"No, no, no." Emilia shook her head. "Only people on the inside knew about that, Max and Kelly had still been keeping up a show for the past few months. But apparently he officially cut things off a few days ago." She laughed. "Completely done with it. Imagine that? I wonder how bad of a mood he'll be in for the rest of the season."

Lena rolled her eyes. "Don't laugh about that. We're going to have to deal with his moody ass."

"Right. I forgot you guys hate eachother." She smirked at Lena, folding her tin-foil into a ball and tossing it into the trash can. "I get he's not the nicest guy, but he has his moments."

One singular moment, Lena thought. Besides that he'd been nothing but a dick. "He's an asshole. I don't like dealing with assholes."

Emilia smiled and patted her on the shoulder. "Well, have fun because I heard Peter is assigning you to Max all weekend. "

Fucking great.